Sorting
by Notus Lethe
Summary: In Sorcerer's Stone, we saw Harry's thoughts as the Sorting Hat Sorted him, what about the others? Come and find out... (Ch 3 added!)
1. mudblood - hermione's sorting tale

Mudblood

Gomen, this is extremely short. But it's a Harry Potter fic! Aren't you excited? I am! I was rereading "The Goblet of Fire" and remembered how wonderful all the characters are. I'm thinking of a Book 5 (I know, huge project) but I don't know... So I'm trying this short weird character sketch to see if I have the Potter gift. Can I write HP? Hopefully. This takes place in SS (Sorcerer's Stone for you non-HP obsessors). It's about well... it won't take long for you to guess! But I really like this and I hope you will too! Be on the lookout, there might be more of these fics, taking a look into what _really_ happened when the Sorting Hat was put on someone's head....

****Mudblood  
A Harry Potter fic  
By: [Charisma][1]

__________________  
Don't blame me  
even if I'm not kind.  
Don't cry for me  
this heart of mine. _  
_Sailor Uranus - I Want to Be the Wind_

The hat slipped on her head. It was worn around the edges and very odd to wear. She had been eager, so eager to get the hat. If she got it, she'd be able to know, able to know her true destiny.

"Well, well, well. Granger. Let's see. Ravenclaw looks good. You're smart I can see. Very smart. But there's so much potential..."

Her nerves flared up. She wanted to be in Ravenclaw. It was safe and she would be surrounded by people she could handle. People who were like her. _Just put me in Ravenclaw please_, she thought vigorously.

"Ravenclaw?" The tiny voice near her ear whispered, its voice was extremely loud and almost echoing. "You want to be in Ravenclaw? I don't know. You're smart Granger, almost too smart. But you've got something, something that makes you different."

_I'm not different_, she almost screamed inside her head. Always different. They'd always said she was different. The kids at the Muggle school... taunting her...

"You're so ugly. Uglier than everything I've seen. And God, what's wrong with you?" it hurt, hurt as the words pierced through that shell she'd been carefully constructing for several years "Weird. You're so weird!"

"Don't call me that! I'm not weird! I'm normal!" Her voice was weak and feeble, straining to reach the volume of the others.

"She's gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. Very gifted. But I'm afraid her type wouldn't fit in here." Her parents had been afraid too; afraid something was wrong with her.

They taunted her everyday. About how her hair stood up or about how smart she was or just that feeling of weirdness she had. Something bothered them.

_I'm not different_, she repeated to herself.

"You're kind I see, very kind. I guess Hufflepuff would be nice for you. You're adaptive enough to be nice and kind in there. But you'd have to hide your intelligence. And you wouldn't want that would you?"

_Hurry up_, she thought loudly, knowing that it had to be a few minutes since she'd put on the hat.

"No no, Hufflepuff won't do. You've got a mean streak Granger, and that takes away Hufflepuff." A mean streak? Yes... yes she did.

She wouldn't talk back. Only ignore the insults, the snickers. Ignoring would make them go away. Her head was in a book all the time, and it helped to ignore the people.

Until someone came up to her, someone who knew.

"You think you've hidden little witch? You think you're safe? Never. I know what you are." He leaned in, knocking her books out of her frozen hands. "Mudblood."

Rage; rage because her parents had taught her that one word. Rage because she was only ten and unable to enter a school yet. Rage because he'd said it. He knew and he'd said it. The rage flew through her fingers, heating them up til they glowed red. They burned and she wanted it to go away. But it wouldn't, because part of her wanted it to go to him. Wanted her rage to destroy him.

"No!" And the rage flew from her fingers. She watched in horror as the man turned bright red before his skin cracked, as if his skin was a paint coat that was crinkling from the heat. Suddenly, the cracked skin fell off him and all that was left was a pile of ashes and a stunned girl. She had never been able to do it since.

But the potential was always there.

"Yes," Said the hat. "You've always been able to. And you will again. So you see Granger, that right there is proof that you can't get into Hufflepuff. No one in that House goes around demolecularizing people. But that leaves you potential for somewhere else..."

_No... not Slytherin_, her mental voice trembled now. She'd read about that House, that House that produced more people of the Dark Arts than anything else...

"Oh yes Slytherin! I see it right there Granger, staring at me. You don't want to be teased anymore. You don't want to be frowned upon. If you were in Slytherin, no one would make fun of you anymore Granger. No one would speak against you... and when Malfoy boy comes up, because I know he's there and I know he's going Slytherin, you two would be so cute together. Don't you think?"

_No!_ She was tempted to rip the hat off, to tear it into tiny shreds, and burn them. But she sat there still, doing nothing and waiting patiently.

"I want to put you there Granger. You'll do well. They like smart people there and you have enough evil to make them happy... But this is what's bothering me. You have two Muggle parents. And that definitely won't last in Slytherin. I guess then, you'll have to go into GRYFFINDOR!"

She took the hat neatly off her head, setting it down on the stool and tried to plaster a bright smile on her face. Malfoy was smirking at her from the end of the line and she tried to hold her head high.

_Almost..._ she thought painfully... _I was almost with him..._

The table seemed empty without her newfound friends on the boat to greet her and she shuddered a sigh into the table. The table felt cold and unwelcoming. She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be in Ravenclaw with all the brains. This wasn't her place.

But as Malfoy happily sat at his table, smirking dirtily at all the students at other tables, she had to dig her heels into the legs of the wooden chair.

_At least I'm not there..._

Strange, how the one word she had hated all her life had just saved it that night.  


Finis

  
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	2. remembering - neville's sorting tale

Howdy

Howdy! It's me! Well here's the second part to my Sorting Hat escapades. I'm just in love with Neville, he's so sad! Not that I'm going to hook him up with Hermione (my fave chika) but... Well this takes pace in SS but it has spoilers for GoF (Goblet of Fire). I've decided to further this series with Draco next and then Ron. Who knows after that. Maybe James, Lily, Remus etc. I really want to do Snape! Maybe McGonagall... ok I'm thinking ahead of myself! Sorry! I'm starting Book 5 (even though it comes out in July) so it will be non-canon. If there are any mistakes (like there were about Hermione knowing the word Mudblood) just tell me and I'll try to remember it. Is there anything I should know about Draco? Oh well, thanks! Review and enjoy the story. It's awesome! hehe.

**Remembering  
**A Harry Potter Fic  
*~[Charimsa][1]~*

______________________________________  
And I'm so lonely   
I don't even want to be with myself anymore  
I just want to feel safe in my own skin,   
I just want to be happy again_____________  
Dido - Honestly Ok_

He tried to smile amid the laughter, trying to gracefully rise to his feet without stumbling again.

"Left, right, left, right, left right. Just a few more steps. Left right, left, right left right," he muttered under his breath. The laughter had stopped and all eyes were on him. What had Gram told him?

"Don't think about what House you want, the hat will decide for you." So that's what he did, tried to keep his mind clear. But as he jammed the worn and ratty hat onto his head, the four who started Hogwarts flew into his head.

_Put me where they'll like me. Hufflepuff. Isn't that supposed to be good?_

"Hufflepuff? Yes, that sounds good indeed. Are you trying to hide something? I can sense it..." He squeezed his eyes shut, even though he couldn't really tell if they were closed or not.

_I'll be fine there. I'll be alright. No one will ask about anything and I'll just suffer through the bad things. I could try a Memory Charm if things get to bad..._

"That was almost intelligent Longbottom, but not enough to get yourself into Ravenclaw. I can sense potential there, you could be more than average, but Ravenclaw is for those who are already smart, not the ones trying to become smart." His fingernails dug into the underside of the stool. The wood chipped into his fingers, but he ignored it.

_Hurry up, they're staring. I don't want attention,_ he thought, ready to rip the hat off his head.

"Don't want attention? But you've always attracted it, no matter where you've been..." The Sorting Hat said nothing for a while, and he began to grow worried, began to think that maybe he wasn't going to be chosen. Maybe he'd be forced to go home to Gram: he'd told her that the Hat wouldn't choose him. That he wasn't a real magician.

The Hat spoke up again. "How can you say that? You've used magic before... Almost got expelled before you even came to Hogwarts... Maybe Ravenclaw is good for you... smart enough to know when to use a Memory Charm."

He was going to take the Hat off even though he hadn't been Sorted yet. He didn't want to remember when he'd used the Memory Charm. Didn't want to remember what it was supposed to block.

"Neville! Where are you? We've got a meeting to go to!" She was at the bottom of the stairs, calling to him. She hadn't gotten the stern voice yet, the one that made him do whatever she said.

"I know!" He shouted back, rereading the spell. Charms usually didn't take words, but if one was doing a Memory Charm on themselves, they needed a little specification. He whipped out his wand; the one Gram had bought his a few days ago. He wasn't supposed to do magic without Gram calling the Ministry ahead of time and telling them she was going to teach him a bit.

He knew what was coming after the meeting. She'd talk to a few of her old friends and they'd offer him some dried fruit that tasted like bacon grease. But then, they'd go the hospital. The hospital that he hated.

When he was little, he couldn't remember why they wouldn't remember him. He couldn't understand why they talked worse than his four-year-old neighbor. He couldn't understand that they were crazy. And it was only last year that Gram had told him they were his parents.

He raised his wand to do the spell, but Gram's old cat, Whiskers (he never did find out her real name) jumped at him, and the wand hit the mirror, bouncing back something at him.

"Neville!" She was at the door now, hands on hips and glaring at him. He blinked a few times.

"What?" Why was she angry at him? What had he done?

"And you've been forgetful ever since... touching story Longbottom. Definitely not Hufflepuff now... now with that kind of power. But where? There _is_ a house that specifies in using power..."

_Slytherin_, he thought. He resisted from shaking his head. Gram would yell at him so bad if he'd gotten himself into Slytherin. The Hat had paused again and he was desperately trying to repel the thoughts of his parents, who he'd been seeing during the Christmas holidays.

"Not Slytherin... they'd tear you apart. That only leaves Gryffindor. But you aren't brave enough for that House." He slouched a bit, ducking his head. He knew.

_I'm not,_ he confirmed.

"Brave people don't use spells to forget the hard times. Brave people don't have those spells go wrong and make him forget most everything." He wanted to get away, wanted the Hat to yell something, anything for him. If he could get away, he could deal with the teasing and use a Memory Charm again if he needed to. Or have that nice girl who'd been helping him with his frog do it for him.

_Just hurry! I want to go..._ He was whining now, trying to speed up the stupid Hat's choosing.

"But you could be brave Longbottom, braver than you know. So it'll be GRYFFINDOR!"

So overjoyed that the Hat had finally chosen, he sprang from the seat and ran to where he thought the Gryffindor table was.

"Hey! Take me back! I need to Sort some more people!" Feeling red stain his cheeks, Neville ran back to the stool, slipping the Hat off and giving to the boy now waiting patiently on the stool. There was laughter again. But he was used to people laughing.

He sat at the table, not that close to anyone. He tried to remember the Memory Charm that he had been using. A little voice in the back of his head spoke up; "You better do it after Christmas. Remember, you're going to see them again."

Them. His parents. Thinking about it, he couldn't remember their names. But that was okay.

They couldn't remember his either.

Finis

Hope you liked. It's Draco next! Then Ron and then... who knows! Review! Thanks! or send to [angelfire2996@Yahoo.com][2]

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	3. need - draco's sorting tale

I know I know, it's been a while. But I've finished Draco's Sorting and I am extremely proud of it. Now, be warned. I wrote this very early in the morning so it's kinda weird.  
I have to put an official warning that this one is rated R because there's a torture scene.  
If you thought the others were sad, this one is worse. I feel bad for the pain I'm putting Draco through but I'm one of those people who believe if you're bad, you must have a really good reason. I think this story is a really good reason.  
Chapters to my other story are being written but I don't know when it will be finished. I don't know when the next one of these will be done either. Who should I do next?  
I made up Annie, Laura and Daphne, but the rest belongs to J. K. Rowling. Damn her.   
Draco's surname really does mean 'bad faith' and 'il orb degli incubi' means 'the orb of nightmares'.

need  
A Harry Potter Fic  
*~Charisma~*

_______________________________________________  
all i want is what's real  
someting i touch and can feel  
i'll hold it close and never let it go  
why do we live life  
with all this hate inside  
i'll give it away 'cause i don't want it no more  
please help me find a place  
somewhere far away i'll go and you'll never see me again  
creed 'bullets' 

It's hard to be confident when you're scared out of your mind. Oh sure, it's easy to fake it when everyone is watching and the adrenaline from performing pumps through your veins, but trying to maintain it without anyone to feed off... now that was difficult.

There weren't that many blond students attending Hogwarts. Blonde seemed to be a rather difficult color to have as hair. So when he stepped forward, he knew there was no doubt that everyone knew exactly who he was.

Draco Malfoy. The Dragon of Bad Faith.

And dragons had to be tough, no matter what. They had a reputation to uphold. No one ever heard of a nice dragon, or a gentle one. No, they were fierce and protective, strong and could be dangerous. When you added the Malfoy name to a dragon, you were bound to get something strong.

McGonagall had called his name, waiting for him to come forward. Her look was bordering on intimidating but you could only be intimidated if you let the other person do it. And Draco Malfoy had been raised not to let any one intimidate.

He couldn't have gotten anymore attitude into his walk or it would have exploded into little bits all over the students. First Years weren't supposed to be confident and proud. They were supposed to be scared and cowering, scuttling forward and rushing to hide amongst the other black sea of robes.

The trials of suspected Death-Eaters were available for public access so most everyone knew about his father's accusation. Draco knew the trial front and back. His father had made him watch it most of the time before he went to school. Said it was an excellent opportunity to work on his lying skills. Only someone extremely good could lie like he had and Draco's mother had faked an alibi. It was the best set of lies ever told.

On his way to the stool, Draco caught a glimpse of Severus Snape, the Potions Master. Father had told him that if he needed anything, if he wanted something or he got into trouble, anything at all, to go to Snape. Snape also had the Dark Mark burning on his arm, embedded forever.

His father spoke very well of Snape, saying the man was a genius for hiding in the school during the Master's revival, that when the Master was back, Snape could strike at Dumbledore easily. Looking at the man, Draco had little doubt about his status as a Death-Eater. Snape should had been the model that they all strove to be.

Yep, sauntering up to the stool with three-quarters of the school almost a hundred percent positive that Lucius Malfoy's son would have to be Slytherin, Draco couldn't have oozed more confidence. But that was on the outside.

Like before, it's hard to be confident when you're scared out of your mind.

His father was the notorious Lucius Malfoy and had already secured his son a place as the school evil. It didn't feel like a great thing to be. Draco was starting to wonder how it would be different if he wasn't the infamous Lucius Malfoy's son. If he was normal. Would he be scared out of his mind still?

Probably, but he wouldn't have been even more afraid to show it.

There was no comfort from anyone. All the teachers who had been friendly before knew this student. They knew what to expect and they knew the House that would befall him. So it was cold and alone to sit on the stool and wait for a teacher that would only know his name to place some shabby thing atop his head.

He wanted to be frightened. He wanted his father to have said that he would be the best no matter what House he landed in. He wanted the teacher standing before him to give a warm smile because she could see the fear and wanted to comfort him. He wanted to be Snape's favorite student because he earned it and not because his father was a fellow evil. Somehow, in the end, it didn't matter what he wanted. 

_Just let it be Slytherin. Slytherin. I know you make quick decisions and I'll help. Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin just hurry up and put me in the House already!_ He was screaming in his head by the time the hat slumped over his eyes.

"Slytherin eh? It's usually the House least wanted and here you are screaming for it. What makes you different from all those others?" The voice sounded clear, but if it talked to all the students, then it had to be in his head.

_Just put me in there. Let's get it over with. Slytherin. Slytherin!_ It was taking too long. It was known that he was going to be evil and evil should be recognized at first glance.

"Draco Malfoy. I seem to remember a Malfoy. Yes, yes, here it is. Lucius Malfoy. Ooh, nasty images in that head. You must be his offspring. There's the memory, he's your father." Fear welled up in his body and he wanted to rip the hat off.

_Stop reminiscing and decide! Slytherin!_ The hat chuckled, smooth and low so that Draco tensed up.

"Here's an image I found of dear father. You see, whenever someone comes into this hat, I know them. I never forget them and they leave a piece of themselves with me. Do you want to see what your father has done? Do you know why you are automatically doomed to be evil? Do you, little dragon?" Draco didn't move, but he shook his head, chanting Slytherin in his mind for all he was worth. Perhaps, he could drown out the hat.

Suddenly, he wasn't looking at black anymore. He wasn't in the interior of a hat. There was a draft and he was in a barely lit dungeon.

Looking closer, Draco could see a blond man kneeling in front of a huddled figure. The figure was shackled to the wall. There was a sphere on the floor next to the blond, and it looked like a clear ball filled with silver and black paint swirling so that it was opaque one moment with a silver flash the next.

"Father?" His voice was startling loud and Draco hunched back, but the blond, whom Draco was now convinced was his father, had grabbed the other's face and pushed him standing against the wall.

"Frank, do you know how long it takes to break someone using the Cruciatus Curse?" The question had to be rhetorical because the other man was so badly beaten that his whole face was swollen to the point where no orifices could open.

Watching all that blood and shivering, Draco hoped a dying hope that his father hadn't done it._ I'm convinced, I know, let me go back_!

"It took us five weeks to break one Auror. We do not have five weeks to wait Frank." Draco squirmed against whatever was keeping him against the wall watching, but that only ended up bringing him closer, so that he could tell the man, Frank, had curling brown hair and that his father hadn't shaved in at least three days. Draco tried to remain absolutely still. If he moved any closer, he'd be able to see the telltale bruises forming on his father's fists.

"You haven't seen anything yet Draco." It was that blasted hat. Hogwarts felt like the dream now, as if it had never existed. All that was real was the two men before him and the cold floor beneath his feet. And that smell.

"I have found a present Frank. A present for you. I normally only buy presents for my wife but my Master has asked me to make an exception." The orb was in the blond man's hands as he held it in front of the other's face, not letting it touch anything save his hands.

Frank seemed to know more than Draco for he muttered something and the blond smiled, a horrible smile that could never, ever be wiped from his mind. That smile promised something beyond death, beyond simple wonderful death.

"Yes Frank. _Il orb degli incubi_. If you know the name then you must know the purpose of it." Draco could feel dread coiling in his stomach. He didn't know what the sphere did, but it would be bad. He knew it.

The blond man pulled out a wand and muttered a simple spell to make the sphere levitate, then, he placed one hand on the sphere and set the wand down his shirt, so that it touched his skin, and the other hand on Frank's head of curls. There were words uttered so softly that Draco leaned forward to hear them.

The world swirled, like a plug pulled in a drain and Draco felt himself being sucked towards that vortex that had formed by Frank and his father. The hat didn't listen to his screams.

_Slytherin! I want to be in Slytherin! Slytherin! SLYTHERIN! PUT ME IN SLYTHERIN! PLEASE! PUT ME THERE! SLYTHERIN!_ They had to be in Frank's head now, because there was a mirror and the face looked like Frank's, only several beatings earlier.

"I love my wife Frank, do you love yours? You do, and that little child growing up in your image." The voice echoed around his brain, like there was a sound system hooked up in various places in his mind. The image of Frank in the mirror shattered. It was a desert, with a wall in the middle. There was a woman chained up.

_LET ME GO BACK! SLYTHERIN! I WANT TO BE IN SLYTHERIN! LET ME GO YOU STUPID HAT! SLYTHERIN! PLEASE SLYTHERIN!_ The woman was pretty in a weird way. She was plump without being fat and had straight shimmering blonde hair the color of snow flowing around her hips. If she had just gotten out of the sea like Venus she wouldn't have looked any prettier. The only thing wrong was the shackles holding her spread eagle on the wall. And the fact that she wasn't wearing any clothes.

The woman had really pretty eyes, the color of orchids with a drop of iris.

His hands wouldn't work. They wouldn't come up to cover his eyes and his eyelids had disappeared, making it impossible to close them or to blink. He wanted to blink it all away.

The sky was the grey before a storm.

"You think she's pretty because she is Frank. A very pretty woman." That same voice told him to get a book from the library, asked if he wanted tea from a house-elf. Want a scone? Sure. Want to kill a woman? Sure.

Frank recovered enough that he stumbled towards his wife. "Leave her alone!"

_I DON'T WANT TO WATCH! TAKE ME BACK! SLYTHERIN YOU DAMN HAT! SLYTHERIN!_

"You could handle most anything happening to you, couldn't you Frank? But not to her, not to Annie." There appeared a long knife, ten inches it seemed with an ivory handle. Frank began to cry out. The woman, whose name was probably Annie, had tears leaking down her face.

"Daddy no! Don't hurt them Daddy! Let them go! Stop Daddy! DADDY!" That voice didn't echo; it only stopped once the words left his mouth.

The knife rested on the cheek of Annie, the ivory hilt the same color as her skin, only a bit more yellow. With a cackle, the blade slid down and released a thin sheet of flesh.

There was no blood.

"NO!"

Wonder who said that.

The knife raised again, this time towards the belly and curved inwards so it'd get a deeper slice.

There was a long wordless scream. Lightning shot through the sky and when it touched the ground, it stayed there. Another scream, another lightning bolt, another sheet of flesh.

_SLYTHERIN!_

"My name is Franklin Nimus Longbottom. I am an Auror in the division of..." Frank continued rambling, spilling everything from his name to the name of his three-headed goldfish that he snuck into Hogwarts during his Second Year.

The vortex spun in reverse. There was a blond man with an orb and a knife with an ivory hilt standing in front of another man, curled into a tight ball on the floor.

There was a faint smell in the air, something rank and shivering, something cold and dying. The whole place reeked of fear.

The blond motioned to four standing on the opposite corner of the room. One with straw-colored hair took the knife from the other blond.

"Use the Cruciatus Curse to get the words aloud. He's broken." A woman with thick shining hair stepped next to the other one.

"The woman's broken. Rosier just finished with her." The man nodded and turned away. Draco got a full frontal view of him.

On his face, was a full smile.

_SLYTHERIN!_

"Now do you see? Now do you see little dragon?" It was the hat again.

But something had changed. Draco didn't feel that fear in the pit of his stomach anymore. He didn't even think about the other Houses now. There wasn't anything floating around except that need. That need to do something, anything, just as long as something was done. There was no fear.

Draco slowly nodded, looking down at his hands. Funny, your hands should get bloody when you've killed someone. When you've ruined three lives. There should be something on your hands. "You should have put me in Slytherin when I first told you."

He understood now. The hat made him understand. They knew. His father knew, he knew now. Everything made sense.

The hat chuckled. "Good little dragon. SLYTHERIN!"

The blackness was pulled off his head and he blinked at the sudden light. How long had that taken? Of course, that didn't really matter.

There were whispers, hisses, boos. "Did you see that Laura? The hat barely touched his head!"

Hmm, not very long then, not long at all.

"Well you know what they say Daphne: you just know evil."

Evil huh? Was that what that feeling was?

Strange, it felt more like need.

Finis

Creepy ne? Hope you liked! Review and tell me who I should do next. I know I'm definitely doing the MWPP peeps, so them next? Argh! Review or write to angelfire2996@yahoo.com


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